Just a little story...

Comments always appreciated.

Jeffrey got into his car and immediately cursed as he bashed his knee on the steering wheel. His wife had forgotten to change the seat position back. Jesus Christ, how did Judith drive, the steering wheel must get a better grip of her tits than I do.

After the initial collision, Jeffrey settled himself down. It was going to be a long drive, so he wanted things just right. He adjusted the mirror (that his wife had also changed); checked he had enough petrol; slipped in a selection of CDs and finally, rearranged his testicles for ultimate driving comfort.

Ready to roll, he thought and turned the ignition. He loved the roar of the engine, it made him feel like he was astride a great beast; a powerful knight of old. For a waste pipe salesman, he certainly had a good imagination. Judith had confirmed that when he’d suggested a horizontal tête-à-tête at 2 am in the morning under the moonlight:

“In your dreams, you randy sod, I’ve got a meeting on the New Curriculum tomorrow. Now piss off and go to sleep.”

Jeffrey wondered where his wife got such a foul mouth. Hanging around with those school kids wasn’t helping much. He couldn’t help but think that teaching would be so much more effective if you left out the children. Musing on this thought, Jeffrey drove out the drive.

He loved driving on his own. He could fart, burp and pick his nose to truly gastronomic proportions and no one would nag him or tell ‘what a dirty bastard’ he was.

Waiting at the lights, Jeffrey was enjoying one such meaty, flatulent Richter-off-the-scale explosion, when a gorgeous girl in a convertible Audi TT drew up beside him. Looking into the mirror, Jeffrey checked himself out (looking good lover boy), twisted his head so his bald patch was hidden, slid down the window and shot his best ‘ripped off Bruce Willis’ rough stuff but dynamite in bed’ smile at the blonde.

On lowering the window, the full aroma of last nights aloo sag hit the poor, unsuspecting girl full on; a pungent cauliflower and spinach infused whallop that threatened serious wretching. The girl grimaced, turned up her lips in disdain, held her nose and stared at Jeffrey like he was primordial sludge.

Amber flashed and she slammed down the accelerator leaving Jeffrey behind to wake up and smell the coffee, so to speak…

After this faux pas, Jeffrey decided it was more advisable to keep his eyes on the road. Actually, he kept one eye on the road and the other on his brand new sat nav unit. He was really pleased with this edition to his expanding gadget library.

He’d only bought it yesterday and the moment he took it home he poured over the instruction manual, taking in all the information, savouring every second of the programming sequence like a fine, French wine. He selected Wolverton, where his sales meeting was, confirmed the location and sat back smiling smugly as his wife muttered:

“Done it then? You could have programmed a NASA space shuttle launch the time it’s taken you to sort that bloody thing out. Aren’t you supposed to be technical…or something?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be in the kitchen, washing up…or something?” Retorted Jeffrey.

“Fine,” said his wife, “Just remember I’m not going to bring a change a clothes if you end up in John O’ bloody Groats!”

His wife could be so dismissive of his many talents, thought Jeffrey, as he subconsciously stroked his Tom-Tom and looked at the car zooming up behind him. A prim, pristine brunette in an open top BMW M3 was in the driving seat.

Jeffrey looked in the mirror, smoothed back his hair, and smiled, his gaze focussed directly on the pretty miss. She can take down my notes any time, thought Jeffrey wistfully, and watched her overtake at speed.

Just as she passed Jeffrey, she turned round, smiled with come-hither eyes and signalled she wanted to race. Jeffrey rose to the challenge, and for the next few minutes they played motorway leapfrog. Shooting forward, the girl blew Jeffrey a kiss. This was the stuff, the reason why he loved driving and why he became a travelling salesman.

Suddenly, he felt a twitch in his nose, air con always dried his nostrils and mucus collected in his copious hair. Unthinking, Jeffrey jammed his forefinger up inside his nose and tugged. A huge, green, viscous globule dislodged and hung like dripping molasses at the mercy of gravity from his finger.

Jeffrey muttered an obscenity and flicked his juicy bogey out of the window, in his usual cavalier style. At that moment, Miss BMW was steaming up the outer lane and caught the full force of Jeffrey’s ejected slippery snot on her softly sculptured cheek.

Not realising what he’d done, Jeffrey blew a saucy kiss to her. She returned the gesture with a single, extended index finger and what Jeffrey thought was the word ‘wanker’. Kicking in the turbo overdrive, the girl shot off up the motorway, leaving Jeffrey to contemplate the vagaries of the female mind.

A beep sounded shaking his thoughts, and he reached over to his sat nav and switched on the audio. A tinny voice instructed Jeffrey to ‘Exit at the next junction and proceed forward across the roundabout’.

Jeffrey was surprised to pass Basingstoke, he felt sure he’d seen somewhare that Wolverton was in Wiltshire. Mind you, he left Carole, his PA to organise everything, he didn’t want to be bothered with such details:

“Just make the appointment, give me the directions and I’ll be happy.”

Jeffrey followed the instructions on the sat nav and arrived at an out-of-town industrial estate. He parked the car in front of the building indicated on his sat nav screen, retrieved his waste pipe samples and catalogue from the boot, and headed towards the entrance.

A sign outside the door said ‘Edge Graphic Design’. Strange, I’m sure it was plumbers I was supposed to be seeing. But Jeffrey still had every faith in Carole and was sure there was no mistake.

On entering reception, a tall, young man with peroxide blond hair, floppy fringe and a rather effete wiggle hurried towards him.

“Hi there, sweetie. What can I do for you?”

The young man eyed Jeffrey’s muscular frame and rugged looks and licked his lips. Jeffrey watched him feeling increasingly uncomfortable.

“Err…I’m here about waste pipes.”

“Oh darling, “ said the man touching Jeffrey’s hand, “You can waste my pipe when ever you like!”

Making a hasty retreat to his car, Jeffrey thought, all things considered, that maybe he’d need to spend a few more hours on his Tom-Tom.